The Third Kingdom
by RobinSchade
Summary: The kingdoms of Olympia and Atalantis may have been allies for decades, but they have long been at war with the Underworld. While certain forms of magic are allowed, necromancy is forbidden and punishable by death. Jason, son of Zeus and Prince of Olympia, is forced to question everything he thought he knew about himself when he takes the Prince of the Underworld prisoner. Jasico.
1. Captured (Part 1)

_Hello everyone! This fanfic is an idea I've had for a little while and I thought I'd go ahead and give it a shot for fun. As much as it pains me to step away from Solangelo (my only otp), I must admit Jasico is a secret delight of mine that I have wanted to try writing for a while. This story is supposed to be medieval fantasy; it does not take place in the Riordan-verse world._

 _In it there are three kingdoms- Olympus, ruled by Zeus, Atlantis, ruled by Poseidon, and the Underworld, ruled by Hades. Magic exists though there are no gods involved, but necromancy (practiced in Underworld) is forbidden._

 _*Rated M (eventually)_

 _*Characters belong to Rick Riordan!_

Part 1:

Captured (1/5)

Jason, son of Zeus and Heir of Olympus, shifted his grip on the reins of his horse Tempest. The forest was dark and eery this time of night and the potent smell of pine sap and horses met his nose.

"I still think it's a mistake, putting you at risk like this, my Lord. I can have Austin escort you back if you like," Luke spoke from beside him, where he sat atop his own horse. Jason could see his point; the sun had already descended low in the sky, ready to slip beyond the horizon any minute. Deep in the forest as they were the light would soon be gone, leaving their small hunting party to be engulfed in eery darkness.

"Not yet." Jason narrowed his eyes, scanning the forest. He could see no movement.

"Your father has assigned me to protect you," Luke tried again. "It's dangerous this far out in the woods at night."

"Of course it's dangerous," Jason muttered wryly. " _I'm_ out here aren't I?"

Luke pressed his lips together and didn't reply. That was smart of him. Jason sighed. "Though my father doubts it, I am perfectly capable of protecting myself. Let's just give it a little longer. They prefer the dark anyways. If there's any time they'll make their move... it'll be soon."

Luke nodded slowly. "Has it occurred to you we may have received misinformation?"

It had. But Jason was stubborn. "I'm not wrong." He couldn't be, not again. His sister's life depended on it.

"But the King-,"

"Will be most displeased if I return empty-handed _again_ ," Jason said curtly. "Now hold your tongue. Frank! Austin! Spread out a little and keep an eye out." He heard hoofbeats as they moved to obey his orders. Frowning, Jason turned his attention back to the woods. It wasn't that he particularly disliked his guards, just that it hadn't been _he_ who had chosen them.

Jason snapped out of his thoughts as the shadows flickered in his peripheral. Squinting, he peered past the tree trunks, searching until... There! Almost entirely obscured by the darkness, he could make out the distant silhouette's of three riders in the fog. "There!" Jason shouted. Without waiting for a response from his men, he kicked his heels into Tempest's sides and the horse lunged forward in pursuit. He heard shouting behind him as Luke and the others hurried to follow after him.

Tempest snorted in protest as Jason steered him through the thick underbrush. It probably wasn't the smartest idea but he didn't want to risk them escaping. Up ahead the shadows seemed to warp and flicker. As he broke through the trees and onto the dirt road that carved a path through the woods, he got his first good look at them. He realized he had miscounted. There were four riders ahead of him, all of whom wore dark clothes; black trousers, black tunics, black cloaks that billowed behind them as they rode. Wide hoods concealed their faces from view.

Necromancers, servants of the Underworld.

They had heard his shout. Even as Jason approached he heard one of them shout something in Latin, a warning to the others. It sounded like a girl. Their horses bolted.

A glimmer of light caught Jason's eyes and he noticed that the cloak of the one in the lead had an unusual gold embroidery around the trim. Imperial gold. Ornate. expensive. His eyes narrowed.

Cursing, Jason urged Tempest after them. He heard the thuds of hooves behind him and knew Frank, Austin, and Luke had fallen in after him. Up ahead the trail twisted sharply. One of the riders, the second farthest one from Jason, twisted in his saddle, raising his arm. The ground shuddered beneath their feet.

"Jason, duck!" Luke's shout rang through the icy air. Jason obeyed just in time; an arrow whizzed over his head, arcing from Austin's bow straight towards the closest of the riders. _No!_ Jason thought. _We need him alive!_ By some twisted stroke of luck, the arrow missed its mark. Instead of hitting the lead rider, it struck the rider on the back right. The girl. A sharp cry of pain rang from her lips as the arrow embedded itself in her thigh.

"Hazel!"

Jason scratched out his previous note; at least two of them were girls.

The rider with the gold on his cloak twisted around at her shout. Their pace had slowed considerably in the confusion. The pounding of hooves echoed in Jason's ears as he chased after them, gaining distance with every stride. A feeling of triumph crowed through him as he closed in-

Only to disappear a second later. One of the girls, the one who did not have an arrow in her leg, had pulled her horse up and around, holding out her palm. _Shit,_ Jason thought. Not a second later the ground split open before him. Tempest barely reacted in time, leaping over the chasm and landing roughly on the other side. He heard shouts behind him and knew the others had skidded to a halt.

"Bianca!"

This time it was a boy's voice Jason heard, anxious and full of fear.

The girl who had created the chasm slid from her horse, landing nimbly in the dirt. A second arrow released from Austin's bow flew past him at the girl. It missed her by a heartbeat. "Nico, go! Get out of here!" she shouted.

 _Nico._

Jason recognized the name.

 _Nico di Angelo._

 _Son of Lord Hades._

 _Heir-Prince of the Underworld._

In all honesty, he didn't care much about any of the others, but the boy in the lead... _T_ _hat one_ could not be allowed to escape. Luke and Frank had finally managed to navigate over the chasm, while Austin hung back, knocking another arrow and aiming for the girl. Drawing their swords in unison, Luke and Frank charged.

"Bianca!" the boy screamed again.

Jason watched the girl draw a knife and swipe ferociously at Luke, distracted for a moment, before looking back up the trail. He cursed aloud, seeing the ever-increasing distance between him and the Prince. Jason kicked Tempest forward and charged down the trail after him. The boy who had been shouting, froze for a second before wheeling his horse around and taking off down the path after the Prince.

With an onslaught of panic, Jason realized he had lost sight of both the Prince and the girl with the arrow in her thigh in the fog. _No,_ he thought to himself in mounting horror. N _o, no, no, no, NO!_ Not again! All their planning had been completely wasted! _Or perhaps not..._ Jason thought desperately.

The boy who had remained behind, screaming for the other girl, was only ten yards ahead of him.

Two options occurred to Jason then; he could either continue to pursue this boy and hope he knew the way and that he would lead back to Nico or Jason could simply capture this other necromancer instead. Their were numerous problems with the first plan, the most apparent being that there was no way this boy would be so stupid as to chase down his master while being pursued. Even if he did, it was unlikely that the Prince and the girl would be foolish enough to slow their pace now before they reached the border into Underworld territory.

Jason raised his hand, concentrating, and the air around him crackled with static electricity. He couldn't risk hurting the boy so he summoned a bolt of electricity that slammed into the ground ten feet in front of his horse instead. The animal gave a hair-raising screech, spooked.

It gave Jason the time he needed to catch up.

Gathering his reins into his left hand and reaching out with his right, Jason came neck to neck with the other rider. Try as he might though, he couldn't reach out far enough to grasp the necromancer and drag him from his horse.

Jason heart missed a beat when he looked at the path ahead of them; he couldn't see much through all the fog but it appeared to descend steeply into a wide creek. They were about to cross into Underworld territory. He couldn't let the necromancer reach it.

Cursing under his breath, Jason kicked his feet from the stirrups. With a final prayer to whatever gods resided above, he threw himself sideways into the other rider, toppling both of them from their horses.

They hit the ground hard. Just as he had intended, Jason landed directly on top of him. He heard the breath driven from his lungs with a sharp ' _umph!'._ Jason lay there for a second, dazed and stunned, trying to gather his thoughts. He waited too long. He yelped as the necromancer's palm slammed into his elbow, making him lose his balance. Just before he fell though, the other rider's jerked his leg up roughly into Jason's ribs. Jason toppled to the side.

 _Hell,_ Jason thought in disbelief. _Where did he learn to fight like that?_

Scrambling up, he tackled the other rider as just as he tried to make a run for the stream. As he did so, his hood finally slid down.

Jason froze in surprise.

The boy looked to be around his own age or perhaps a year younger, though he was surprisingly small for his age. His skin was as pale as the snow, his hair black and feathery like the feathers of a crow. Hateful onyx eyes stared up at Jason, dark and dangerous. But none of that alone was what gave Jason pause. At first glance the boy's appearance was striking, sure, but beyond that he could only be described as, well... beautiful. Not at all the way a necromancer, one of the servants of the Underworld, should look. It didn't seem right. For a fraction of a second Jason even considered that he had been wrong; perhaps this boy wasn't even one of them. But that was ridiculous. With a glance down to the boy's neck he could just see the black markings that had been tattooed onto his pale skin, just above his collarbone.

He almost waited too long. Jason saw the boy's eyes flicker down to where Jason's hands were gripping his shirt, holding him against the ground. It was all the warning Jason needed that the boy was about to fight back again. With a strange feeling that could have been regret, Jason gripped his hair and slammed his head back hard into the earth, knocking him unconscious.

He sat there for a few seconds, panting tiredly, and eyeing the dark haired boy beneath him.

"Jason!" He heard footsteps running towards him and a moment later hands grabbed his shoulders, pulling him up and off of the fallen figure. Luke's dark face came into view, closed off and cautious. "Did you touch him? Jason, _did you touch him?_ " he repeated urgently.

Jason shook his head slowly, still staring at the kid on the ground. "No. Just his clothes."

Behind Luke, Frank and Austin exchanged dark looks. Jason understood their concern; he had seen firsthand the kind of misery necromancers could inflict upon their victims through touch alone. _Their magic is a poison,_ Zeus would say, _Seeping into anything it can reach, destroying all it touches_. Jason also knew Luke's mother, May, had been one of those unfortunate souls touched by necromancy.

"It's alright, Luke. I'm fine. I promise." Jason clapped a hand to his friend's shoulder. Taking a closer look at Frank and Austin, he winced. "I take it you didn't manage to grab the girl either?"

"Unfortunately not, my Lord," Austin answered, his grip clenching around his bow. "She moved so fast, I've seen nothing like it. She faded into the shadows like a- a- ghost. It was eery." Austin shuddered.

That was unfortunate but Jason could live with it. "At least we got this one," he said, casting another glance at the dark haired boy lying on the ground. His head had fallen to the side, dark bangs cascading over his eyelids.

"This is him?" Luke asked, looking critical. "Lord Hades's son? He doesn't look like much."

"Umm, no," Jason admitted reluctantly. "The Prince escaped over the border. I was forced to settle for this one." He nodded his chin towards the unconscious necromancer boy.

Luke wrinkled his nose, warping the scar along his cheek. "Well, he'll have to do. We should get some distance between the us and the border before he wakes up. Frank! Fetch his horse. We can tie him-"

"No." Jason held up a hand to stop him. Kneeling down, he scooped the fallen boy into his arms. He was curiously light, and thin. Jason was careful not to make contact with his skin. "I'm keeping him with me."

Luke's expression twisted. "Are you sure that is wise? Even unconscious he's still-"

"He stays with me until we get back to the castle," Jason ordered, striding to Tempest who had skidded to a halt thirty yards or so down the path after Jason had leapt off his back. The fog seemed to want to cling to the dark haired boy as he walked. It was probably overkill but he didn't want to let him out of his grasp for even a second until he had delivered him safely to his father.

Of course, whether the prince of the Underworld would actually help them was another matter entirely. Not that it worried Jason. His father could be… very persuasive when he wanted to be.

Okay, so perhaps he was worried.

Just a little.

 _Thanks for reading! Let me know what you guys think and if I should continue. :)_


	2. Captured (Part 2)

_Hello again! Thanks to everyone for fav/following/reviewing! I really appreciate it._

 _*Characters belong to Rick Riordan_

 _*Rated M_

Part 1:

Captured (2/5)

Jason must have hit the boy harder than intended; he hadn't so much as stirred nor spoken a word in the last couple of hours. He slumped against Jason's chest motionless, breathing soft and even. Luke, Frank, and Austin shot him the occasional suspicious look as if they were dubious that he could still actually be unconscious. Jason shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. Somewhere along the ride East it had begun to snow but despite the cold he could feel a trickle of sweat on the back of his neck. His cloak was thick and trapped in the warmth and there was a surprising amount of heat radiating from the boy in front of him. A strand of his black hair tickled Jason's chin. He smelled like some sort of spice, sweet and crisp, not dissimilar to cinnamon.

Jason abruptly coughed into the crook of his elbow.

After a while his eyes began to droop and his back ached from sitting in the saddle for so long. He could tell the others felt just as exhausted.

"We should stop and make camp for the night," Luke suggested.

Jason grimaced. "Olympus is only several leagues farther south. If we push it we can make it by mid-morning."

"That's got to be another six hours of riding," Luke countered. "And we're all exhausted." Jason knew he was being modest- he had seen Luke push through some particularly grueling battles with almost no sleep, and with little regard for himself. If he was concerned it could only be for Jason and his comrades.

Jason wanted to argue. His eyes darted down at the boy in front of him for the hundredth time that night. The longer they delayed return, the angrier Zeus would be, and the longer Thalia remained in her comatose state, hovering a mere breath away from death. The longer they delayed the greater the chance was of their prisoner awakening and escaping. But as much as he didn't like it Jason knew it would be foolish and risky to try to navigate the forest in the middle of the night. This deep in it was probably full of monsters and spirits and other things best left undisturbed. They had only chosen to continue the past couple of hours in order move away from the border to the Underworld and now that they had it was probably a better idea to rest.

Jason nodded reluctantly.

After dismounting, Frank helped him pull the unconscious necromancer down from Tempest. Jason watched critically as he carried him over and set him down by the tree nearest the fire. Then he used rope to bind his hand tightly behind his back and then to the tree itself. The boy's head lolled limply to the side, his bangs casting shadows over his pallid complexion. His eyelids flickered feverishly in his sleep. Jason wondered dispassionately what someone as evil and detestable as a necromancer might possibly have to dream about.

All his life Jason had grown up hearing about them; of the atrocities their kind had committed, the terror that surrounded them and their abilities, of the death that followed in their wake. The ability to command spirits, weave life back into the rotting flesh of corpses, even coax the dead awake from their homes under the earth… Jason shuddered to himself, breath fogging in the air. Such magic went against all the laws of the world. To play with fate in such a way was considered selfish, unholy, and punishable by death.

And yet here he was, breaking the laws of his own kingdom and smuggling one of their kind in all to save the life of his own sister. And all on the King's orders, of course.

 _Typical,_ Jason thought. _Ever t_ _he hypocrite._

Some people believed that to gain the powers of necromancy you had to sell your soul, while others believed you had to sell the soul of someone you loved, or else commit other atrocious acts of evil. A seldom few believed it was a power one was born with. Jason didn't know which was true. His eyes combed the face of the boy in front of him. It was unsettling to think someone so beautiful was also so undoubtedly evil.

Jason shivered as wind gusted against his neck, tugging him out of his thoughts. While he had been staring absently at their prisoner, Austin had started a small fire with the help of his powers. They all huddled around it.

"What do we do when he wakes up?" asked Frank, taking a seat beside Austin. "Even tied up, he's still dangerous."

"Already on it." Austin had pulled a wrapped cloth full of dried herbs from one of the saddlebags, the contents of which he then tossed into a small pot of water and let heat over the fire.

After that they ate a simple meal of dried meat and bread and listened to the surrounding chorus of insects from the forest. Jason had just lifted a piece of venison to his mouth when Luke gave a sudden exclamation of surprise.

"Hey!"

Jason turned to see that their prisoner had finally awoken.

* * *

Nico's head throbbed, which was to be expected. What was not expected was how he had been so careless to be captured at all. Dull light flickered beyond his eyelids and he opened them to see a small campfire. The flames licked the bottom of a small boiling pot. Four people sat around it, garbed in silvery-grey and deep cobalt clothes-

 _Well fuck._

Their horses had been tethered to one of the low hanging branches of a nearby pine tree. He struggled to move and pain shot up his ankle. It felt either broken or severely sprained.

 _Double fuck._

The empty scabbard at his side told him his sword had been confiscated, and- he wriggled his useful foot experimentally- the dagger in his boot as well. With a feeling of mounting panic he skimmed his fingers together and was relieved to feel the familiar skull ring still upon his finger. So not all had been lost after all.

He scraped at the dirt behind his back with his fingers until he felt he had made a decent hole and then slid the ring from his finger, dropping it inside. He recovered it with dirt and glanced around, trying to remember any distinguishing features of the clearing. Just in case he ever made it back.

But that was highly unlikely.

"Hey!"

He froze at the cry, hoping none of them had noticed what he'd done.

One of them, the most muscular of the group, stood up, grabbing a cup and spooning some of whatever was in the pot into it. He strode toward Nico with it.

Nico watched him warily as he approached. He supposed it was too much to hope the man was coming to offer him a delicious, hot stew out of the goodness of his heart. As he drew closer he saw that he had a deep scar etched across one side of his face, from his temple to the corner of his mouth. His hair was sandy blonde and his eyes a deep brown. They held nothing but contempt and repugnance as he regarded his captive.

Nico fought the urge to shrivel back as the cup was held out to him. It smelled and looked like some sort of pungent tea.

"Drink."

Nico forced an impassive look onto his face and glared back. His eyes flicked down to the steaming cup and then back to the man's face. "No, thank you."

A scowl appeared on the man's face, warping his scar slightly. "I wasn't asking. Besides it'll keep you warm. Not that I give a damn if you freeze."

Nico pressed his lips together and shook his head. "In that case, I'll take the second option," he said curtly.

The man stared at him. Nico couldn't tell what he was thinking but his upper lip was starting to curl in disgust the longer he stared at Nico.

Suddenly his gloved hand darted forward and seized Nico by the hair. He gasped as his head was forced back and the rim of the glass jammed against his mouth. It hurt but he pressed his lips firmly together. In answer the man released his grip in his hair and instead pinched his nose shut. Nico tried to fight defiantly but with ankle screaming in pain and his hands bound, he couldn't last long. Finally he was forced to open and opened his mouth. He spluttered and choked on the liquid. Most of it trickled onto his clothes.

Pleased, the man released him and pulled the cup away. Nico stared resentfully at him for a solid second. Then he spat the rest of the tea into his face.

The man recoiled violently, staring at Nico in surprise. Then, fast as a snake, he struck his palm across Nico's face. Nico squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for another blow to follow.

"Luke, that's enough!"

Looking up, Nico placed the voice to another who had just stood up from the campfire. He had pale blonde hair and exasperated blue eyes. Nico recognized as the one who had tackled him from his horse and knocked him out. He scowled at the memory.

"Go keep watch with Austin," he said quietly. His voice was softer than Luke's, gentler. It did not make Nico dislike him any less. "Let me handle this."

"That is not wise-," Luke began furiously but fell short at the look on his friend's face. "Yes, my lord."

Ah. So he also just so happened to be the Prince of Olympia. Nico's dislike for him doubled in an instant. What was his name again? Jerry? Jedidiah? Jackass?

The last one sounded right.

Jackass dropped to a knee beside Nico, crossing his arms comfortably over his leg. He was everything Nico had suspected from the a-famed Prince of Olympus; he was tall, though rather stocky of frame, with piercing blue eyes, and blonde hair trimmed in the style of a raging perfectionist. He frowned at Nico, his gaze calculating and perplexed and… amused? He looked at Nico like he wasn't quite sure what to make of his new prisoner.

"I wouldn't antagonize Luke if I were you," he said quietly. "He really hates your kind. Probably more than most. Keep it up and you'll be getting more than a light slap. And I won't bother to protect you next time."

Nico forced a sneer onto his face. "Protect _me_? I'm here I thought you were just protecting his hand."

The Prince stared at him, and for a second Nico was reminded of how he had frozen for that brief moment after he had knocked Nico from his horse. But why? Nico wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"You're not nearly as impressive as I imagined," Nico said insultingly. "Compared to Hades' son you're downright pathetic."

The Prince suddenly looked far from impressed. Nico guessed he had struck a nerve, reminding him that the Prince of the Underworld had escaped his grasp.

If only he knew the truth.

 _Stupid,_ Nico cursed himself. It had been his idea after all. After all the trouble he and his sisters had gone to to disguise Octavian as Nico- just on the off-chance there happened to be an ambush- he had been captured anyways, simply by bad luck. His only shot at this point was to hope his captors didn't figure out his true identity.

Nico cocked his head to the side. "What's the matter?" he asked snidely. "Sad you only got his servant? _"_

The Prince frowned at him. "Actually, it doesn't particularly bother me. It's my father you'll need to worry about."

Nico raised an eyebrow. "You say that, yet _you're_ the one with orders to capture the Prince."

"What makes you think those were my orders?"

Nico blinked in surprise. "Well, you certainly pursued him like Cerberus after a stick. I just assumed."

"Who's Cerberus?"

"Um-" Nico cursed at himself inside his head. "No one. Family pet. Tell me, if you had caught him what were you planning to accomplish? Did you just want to piss off Lord Hades or were you trying to get yourself killed?

The Prince's brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to retort, but someone else beat him to it.

"Watch it," Luke growled at Nico. He had returned once more, still carrying the same cup. It looked to have been refilled. Great, here came the fun again. "Threats against the crown warrant a death sentence. Jason, this is-"

 _"_ Jason!" Nico exclaimed loudly. "Thank Gods, finally!"

"What?"

"Oh, I couldn't remember your name," Nico said nonchalantly. "It was really annoying."

Jason actually looked a little miffed by that. Perhaps he didn't like the idea that not everyone in all the lands had heard of him. _Figures,_ Nico thought, smirking at him.

Jason acted as if he hadn't heard him. "I'm glad you're amusing yourself. Would you like me to tell you what the punishment is for those who practice the kind of magic your people do?"

"A light spanking?" Nico muttered spitefully.

"For murder and endangering the lives of the living?" Jason snapped. "No. It's not."

Nico sighed like he was unimpressed, but inside his heart hammered against his ribcage. Unfortunately he _did_ know the penalty. "You accuse all my people of such acts. It gets very unoriginal."

"Do you deny it?" Luke snapped, eyes blazing.

Nico glared at him hatefully. "All I know is that a lot of _my_ kind have died at _your_ father's hands," he spat at Jason. "More than I can count. Let's compare numbers shall we? Then we'll see whose really committed murder-"

"Shut up," Luke snarled at him. "Jason, this is ridiculous. We should just kill him and be done with it. He's not worth it. I'm sure the King will understand. We can figure out another way to save-"

"No," Jason snapped, standing up to face his friend. "This is our last chance. It's the only way. I _know_ it's dangerous, I _know_ that its abominable, but…" Jason didn't continue. His blue eyes looked dark and shrouded as they dropped back over to Nico.

Nico didn't need to be as good as he was at reading people to know that the Prince seemed to be having some sort of a battle of morals in his head.

Nico laughed. "Well this just keeps getting better and better. What in hell's name could the wise and powerful Lord Zeus want my help with? And to save someone? Or something?" Nico cocked his head to the side. "Tell me, does this mean I am correct in thinking he does _not_ intend to have me burned at the stake then?"

Jason hesitated, apparently considering his words carefully. He let out a harsh breath and shook his head. "You can't honestly think I am foolish enough to share our plans with you? Nice try. I'm sure you'll meet your death soon enough, although today is not that day. Tell me, what name do you go by?"

 _Oh crap,_ Nico thought, wracking his brains. "Octavian."

They seemed to buy it.

"Hm." Jason reached over and took the cup from Luke. He held it out to Nico, showing him that revolting tea inside. "You'd better drink this, Octavian. It really will help keep you from freezing to death." Jason hesitated before adding, "Plus, either it's you drink it or I knock you out again. It's your choice."

Nico scowled fiercely. "Knock me out, then. I don't care."

"Seriously?" Jason asked in disbelief. "You've already taken one knock on the head tonight. Keep this attitude up and you'll have brain damage by sunup."

Nico stared angrily at him. As much as he hated to admit it he knew the Prince was probably right- he was already shivering violently from the cold, his teeth beginning chattering. It didn't help that his natural body temperature tended to run lower than others'. It sounded like the tea he was being offered was probably made using an herb called ambrosia, which could be used to make the consumer feel warmer. It was commonly used around these parts to survive the harsh winter.

Although he didn't relish the idea of being bossed around by the stuck up son of Zeus, he also didn't fancy freezing to death in the middle of the woods.

"It's ambrosia?" he asked hesitantly. It didn't smell quite like it.

Jason nodded. His blue eyes were unreadable. "Ambrosia and some other spices from my kingdom."

Swallowing his pride, Nico took a deep breath and let the Prince press the cup to his lips. The liquid burned hot as it went down his throat, spreading through his veins. He felt immediate warmth and… something else.

Something was wrong.

His limbs suddenly turned to lead like his body had decided to shut down all at once. His eyelids began to droop. Nico gasped in a combination of shock and, yes, fear. "I thought... you weren't going to... kill me," he murmured through numb lips.

"I'm not," Jason said firmly, standing up again. Nico's vision grew mottled and spinning like a constellation. "Trust me, if you're going to die it'll be on _my_ terms. This will just put you to sleep until we get back. Sweet dreams, Octavian."

Nico fell into the familiar darkness.

 _Thanks for reading! Thoughts? :)_


	3. Captured (Part 3)

Part 1: Captured

(Part 3/5)

"So what you are telling me is that this has been yet another _waste of time!_ " Zeus's hand came down hard upon the old oak table, setting the bronze goblets rattling. "Returning empty-handed once was forgivable, but a second time... I should have known better than to think you could accomplish this mission."

Jason watched his father pace the floor in front of his throne, footsteps echoing ominously. It was late morning. Pale light filtered through the great stained-glass windows, painting the marble floors with scattered images of lightning bolts. The room was a masterpiece in and of itself, with massive pillars gilded in gold that stretched thirty feet high to join with the arched ceilings. As a child Jason could remember longing for the day he was allowed entrance into his father's throne room, to be deemed wise enough to hold an opinion that his father might value. Before he knew it, that time had come, and passed. Now every time he stepped foot through the great doors he felt trapped, like a mouse held by the tail before being fed into the mouth of a ravenous snake.

Behind him he heard Austin and Luke shift somewhat uncomfortably, which didn't surprise Jason. Usually when his father reminded Jason of what a blithering idiot he was, it was in private.

Jason took a deep breath. "There were... complications. Things did not go to plan."

"I had gathered," Zeus said curtly. "Of what manner were these complications?"

"We had difficulty locating the necromancers," Jason tried to explain. "They were not where Apollo predicted they would be. As such were unable to intercept them until they were almost to the border of the Underworld and by then it was too late. I am afraid..." Jason's voice faltered briefly, hesitant to voice his mistake, loathing to witness the look his father would give him once he did. "I'm afraid Hades' son escaped into the shadows before I could stop him."

Hades' son.

 _Nico di Angelo._

The name was as painfully familiar as it was foreign to him.

Jason had neither seen nor met the heir to the thrown of the Underworld and now it seemed he would not for some while longer. Upon being assigned this mission Jason had been a mixture of what could best be described as frightened yet intrigued. Frightened by the unwavering determination with which his father pursued his quest, intrigued by the prospect of finally meeting the Prince of the Underworld, Jason's counterpart cloacked in the dark. Jason had heard the many stories of him, stories of how he resembled his own father, Lord Hades, in more than just looks. Stories of how he was cruel, callous, the perfect vessel of the corrupt magic from which he'd been born. There were some who even believed him to be insane. As a prince himself, Jason had to wonder which of those tales held truth, and which mere rumors.

Looking away from Zeus's glower, Jason glanced towards their dark-haired prisoner who lay slumped between the holds of Ares and Luke. Ares was the King's personal guard and a formidable warrior. It had been Ares whom had trained Jason in combat, from his fifth birthday all the way up until two years ago, the day the student had finally surpassed his master.

The boy- Octavian, Jason corrected himself as he could hardly be more than a year younger than Jason himself - was still unconscious. His eyelids flickered feverishly beneath his dark bangs. The potion would wear off soon.

"It's not as if I returned empty handed," Jason said hopefully, returning his gaze to his father. "What does it matter who I brought back? You said we needed a servant of the Underworld for this spell. I have brought you one."

Hades knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the table between them. His head was bowed as if praying that he may be struck with some sort of solution. "Yes. Only not the one I need."

"What does it matter if he's not the Prince?" Jason inquired. "Isn't it enough that he can save Thalia-"

"Can he?" Zeus's head tilted up as he raised an eyebrow in question. "Tell me, son, who is this boy, if not Hades' son? What makes you think _he_ is capable enough to do what must be done?"

Well unfortunately that was a good point. Now that Jason thought about it, he realized he hadn't actually seen this kid use any sort of magic at all. The girls that had accompanied him, yes. They had displayed considerable power in the face of adversary. Crap _,_ Jason thought, cursing himself mentally. _What if this kid is completely useless?_ So far he had proven himself quite adept at back-talking and spitting out insults, but Jason had a feeling those weren't quite the talents Zeus sought. But then, it wasn't as if the kid was completely useless; he had almost gotten the upper hand on Jason even after being knocked from his horse and pinned to the ground.

Jason hesitated before saying, "I... believe he is a servant. To the Prince." He wanted to cringe even as he spoke the words.

"A servant?" Jason had to resist the urge to wince at the blatant contempt that coated his father's tone. "How in Gods name can you think that a servant will be of any use to me?" Zeus's tone, ever icy, grew colder. "This type of magic is difficult and complex. If you have brought me some sort of- of- _bedwarmer_ -"

Jason almost choked. "I don't know _that's_ true-" he retorted hotly, before giving pause. He had been taken aback by Octavian's striking looks when he'd firs seen him… Dear Gods. Jason felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his cheeks. He was starting to get an inkling of just how badly he might have fucked up. "H- How was I supposed to know?" Jason retorted, a twinge of anger flashing through him. "You refused to tell me anything about how this spell is going to work."

"Their magic is hardly to be referred to as innocent spell-work-" Zeus muttered.

"Ritual, then," Jason corrected impatiently. He took a deep breath and gazed down at the floor, wishing fervently that Thalia stood beside him, as she once had. She had always been the reasonable one, the collected one, with calming words ready on the edge of her tongue. "I will try again. I'll have the guards ready at first light-"

"No, it is too late." Zeus held up a hand to silence Jason, crease lining his forehead as he considered their predicament. "The full moon is only fortnight away and Thalia is fading. I fear we have already delayed too long. Very well. This - _boy-_ " Zeus's lip curled in disgust, as he spoke directly to Ares and Luke. "Have him brought into one of the spare rooms in the South Wing. It would not do to keep in the dungeons where anyone of the upper court might discover him."

"Yes, my Lord." They both inclined their heads, before tightening their grips on their prisoner and moving to leave.

"I need not mention," Zeus added before they could disappear, "-that should either of you speak of this situation or provide any inclination at all that there is a necromancer within this castle to anyone other than myself or my son, I shall have your tongues carved out."

* * *

Nico groaned quietly to himself and cracked an eye open. An acrid taste coated the inside of his mouth and he spent a moment blinking the disorientation away before sitting up. He became aware of several things as he did so.

First was that his hands were bound. Heavy chains clamped his wrists together before him. The metalwork was etched with archaic-looking symbols. Nico recognized them immediately, unfortunately. Runes, specifically runes that prevented him from using his own powers. Fantastic.

Second of all, he was in a spectacularly furnished bedroom.

Nico raised an eyebrow in surprise as he beheld his surroundings.

The room was opulent, excessively so. The tall ceilings had been lined with fine silk drapes of cobalt and silver, and woven tapestries, most of which heralded portraits of the ancient lineage of Olympus. The most prominent detailed the image of Kronos, the late king and Zeus's father. He had earned himself quite the reputation in life, having massacred several of the small outlying towns around Erebus. To see him glorified as some sort of hero made Nico's lip curl in disgust. A bookcase full of wide-spined books lined the wall adjacent to his left and along the right was an armchair accompanied by a narrow, well-polished end table. Directly in front of him by about fifteen feet was a door. Nico's eyes lingered longingly on it for several seconds. The room also contained a sizeable bed, garnered in rich cobalt linens and an offensive amount of pillows.

And that was the other problem.

His eyes distastefully traced the chain that bound his hands to where it was securely fastened to lower half of one of the footboard posts. The chains were tight enough that he could, at most, rise to a crouch before he was pulled short.

 _What the hell?_ Nico thought through the pulsating veil that clouded his mind from his recent poisoning. _He had been captured, drugged, and... thrown into a beautiful room?_ Jason Grace needed a serious lesson on the proper way to treat a prisoner.

He had just leaned forward to see if he couldn't find a way to free the chain from the bed when the door opened, making him freeze.

Jason Grace stood in the doorway, flanked by two guards, one of whom Nico recognized as Luke. His cheek twinged at the memory. Motioning for his men to wait outside, Jason stepped inside the room and shut the door. Nico fought the desire to leap to his feet and attack, knowing it would do no good.

"I'm pleased to see you're awake," Jason said lightly, stopping when he was five feet away and eyeing Nico warily. "How are you feeling?"

Nico glared at him with ill-concealed hatred. His head ached and his stomach churned with thinly suppressed nausea, probably from whatever poisonous concoction had been forced down his throat, and this conceited prick of a prince had the nerve to ask him how he was feeling? Nico chose to ignore his question altogether and asked his own instead. "Why am I here?"

Jason tilted his head to the side and answered, "You were captured. Don't you remember? Or did that knock on the head-"

Nico scowled and interrupted with, "But why am I _here_?"

Blue eyes drifted over the finery of the room and Nico knew he had understood the question. The Prince grimaced as he wandered over to the bookshelf. "Don't tell me it's not to your liking. Bit outdated - we don't normally use the- ah, _this_ wing - this time of year." Jason swiped a finger across one of the bookshelves, wrinkling his face as he inspected his finger. "Hm. Bit dusty though."

Nico had the inkling Jason had been about to accidentally tell him exactly which area of the castle he was in but caught himself just in time. Too bad. But the slip up served Nico more than Jason probably realized. It was midwinter, probably still snowing outside, and the sun was a sacred artifact this time of year. That would place him in the North Wing. Nico decided he would file that information away for later, when he could easier plot an escape.

In the meantime he would apply himself to being the most ungrateful prisoner the Kingdom of Olympus had ever seen. "I wish to be moved," he snarled, not altogether untruthful. A dungeon was familiar, a dungeon he could understand. This room... it made him uneasy. He wasn't familiar with such extravagances, even back home.

Jason's brow furrowed. He brushed the dust from his finger onto his trousers and wandered back over to Nico. "What makes you think I'm in the habit of granting wishes to necromancers? You should be a little more grateful the King is so merciful. You could have been thrown in the dungeons. You could have been executed immediately upon your arrival here."

Nico grit his teeth. He had difficulty entertaining the notion that Zeus could do anything out of mercy. Certainly not for Nico. Not for who or what he was. "Why wasn't I?" He did his best to raise himself to Jason's height and failed because of the chains. "Tell me _why_ I am here!" he demanded.

Instead of answering, Jason cast a bored gaze around Nico's prison as if he didn't warrant a response. The action served to further grate Nico's nerves. He found his gaze resting on Jason's throat, where just a hint a collarbone peeked out from under his shirt. Just above the collar he could make out the faint flutter of his pulse. Nico would have liked to fasten his hands over that area and _squeezed_ until it stopped.

"Why else if not to answer for your crimes? Treason, murder, you pick. They all warrant the same sentence, no?"

"Murder?" Nico asked, surprise forcing him to stop imagining strangling Jason to death for a moment. "I would never."

Apparently Jason didn't feel inclined to respond to that comment either, because he took a deep breath and gazed distractedly at the torch that hung upon the wall, shining with pale flames. When his gaze returned to Nico his expression was drawn, calculating. "Your kind can bring people back from the dead, yes?"

Nico let out an amused breath at the question, the corner of his mouth quirking up by its own volition. "Sounds to me like someone's been devilling in the dark arts himself, Jason." It felt twisted on his tongue, referring to his own magic as _dark arts_ , but he needed to test the waters.

Jason turned squarely towards Nico, anger plainly written across his face. Nico tensed. He would have felt much better had he not been bound to the bed. "How dare you accuse _me_ of treason? I have dedicated my life to righting the insurmountable number of atrocities your kind have committed. I have seen the effects of necromancy on the innocent. The madness, the insanity... Your kind are nothing but a stain upon this earth," Jason said through his teeth. "To suggest that I... would consort with such an abomination is- is-"

Jason seemed at a loss for words. Somewhere in the midst of his feeling he had reached for the hilt of his sword, as if he were actively fighting the urge to strike Nico down where he knelt before him.

The thought did nothing to lighten Nico's own mood. "If you hate me so much then why have I been brought here? Why am I not dead?"

Jason cast a dark gaze at him. His eyes drifted down to the shackles that bound Nico's wrists. Haltingly, he said, "I require your cooperation."

"You- what?" Nico almost burst out laughing at the idea. This was a turn of events he had not been expecting. "My _cooperation_?"

"I've come to offer you an ultimatum." Jason released his grasp on his sword and crossed his arms. "The King requires your... assistance with a certain matter. A spell. First, I need you to swear your obedience. I need you to promise to adhere to the commands of the King, whatever they may be."

Nico pressed his lips together tightly, forcing a contemplative look. "Is that all? You know, perhaps if you'd started by asking nicely..." He rattled the chains that bound his wrists. "But as it is, I find I'm not in much of a cooperating mood."

Jason's expression darkened. He rapped his fingers on the hilt of his sword, a sound that irked Nico. Scratch strangling him. Nico would have liked to run him through. "You will be," Jason promised, his voice low and dangerous. "Do not test me. You will swear fealty to King Zeus. You will do as he commands."

"Or?"

A muscle in Jason's jaw twitched. "Or I will be forced to make you."

Oh.

 _So that's how this is going to go._ Nico leaned forward as far as his restraints would allow. "I see. Let me make myself perfectly clear. I, Octavian, son of Aristaeus, would rather die than serve the hypocritical scum that has slaughtered my people like animals. My crimes are nothing compared to yours, Jason Grace. I may belong in the shadows but at least I know what I am." He poured as much contempt and authority as possible into the words feeling, in a way, that he was speaking on the behalf of the thousands of his people whom had been rounded up and slaughtered since the end of the Great War.

Jason's face had lost some of its color, whether from rage, or fear, or shock it couldn't be said. He still looked as pissed as ever. His hands clenched ever so perceptibly at his sides and for a moment Nico thought he would strike him. He did not though. At last he took a deep breath, some color returning to his face. As swiftly as the anger had appeared it was replaced with something else; the storm in his blue eyes dissipated, leaving behind a strange mix of sadness and vulnerability as he looked at Nico. A gentle chill rolled down Nico's spine at his expression.

"Fine. If that is your wish. But I do worry you will regret it." Jason left the room then, without looking back. Nico stared blankly down at the cold iron encircling his wrists feeling cold and unnerved. The Prince's demeanor had changed so swiftly and without warning it left him reeling. What had one second been a look of unadulterated loathing had morphed into an unreadable sadness that Nico found vaguely familiar.

Suddenly it hit him, why Jason Grace's departing look had left him rattled.

Jason looked like someone he knew.

Nico's heart contorted painfully in his chest as memories he had long since struggled to forget, memories of someone whom had once been very dear to him, clawed forward in his mind. Memories that left an ache in his heart and a madness in his soul. Nico folded his arms tightly across his chest as he tried to force it back to the dark. He could not afford to lose himself right now. Not in this place.

Jason had said Nico would regret his words. Nico thought he would come to regret them as well but right now he couldn't bring himself to care.

The fates must have been impatient indeed, because as it turned out he regretted them within two days.


End file.
